


Clever Little Things

by alrightinbed_betterwithapen



Category: Video Blogging RPF, vlog squad
Genre: Angry Sex, Cussing, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Love/Hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 11:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17897651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alrightinbed_betterwithapen/pseuds/alrightinbed_betterwithapen
Summary: You don’t like David, and he plans on changing that.





	1. Chapter 1

——

David fucking Dobrik.

Fuck that guy.

Yeah, you said it. Repeatedly and sometimes out loud. You couldn’t give a fuck about YouTube’s resident golden boy. You have lived in California far too long to be impressed with young, ridiculously wealthy men and their expensive cars. David seemed like a guy who fell face first into a vat of luck and wore humbleness like a cloak, hiding who he was underneath.

You were bound to run into him around Hollywood, your job as a freelance editor had you working with a ton of people in the industry he dominated. You had once preferred working in TV and film, but when a girl named Gabbie reached out to you, getting your info from a colleague, you were yanked into the YouTube world. Gabbie loved your work and had given your name out to all her influencer friends. The calls came rolling in.

Hey, it was a paycheck. These viral sensations actually made bank, and you were getting a more steady source of income from them than you did at any other job you’d worked in the city of angels. It even led to a pretty long contract job at a decent media group. Where you had to attend events and mingle and really learn about the world you were working in. It was mostly good.

But David, he fucking annoyed you. Whether it was hanging all over Instagram models for clout, or holding up the entrance line at a club to take paparazzi around his car, laughing and playing it up to an extreme, he fucking irked you. You had made the mistake of following him on Snapchat, one of his stories accidentally rolling over from a friends; he had two bleach blondes screaming about merch and then the camera flips around to his smug face telling you to swipe up. Yeah. Fucking. Right.

In your mind there were the Paul’s, Ricegum and David Dobrik: the premier fuckboys of YouTube.

So, there is no way you’re actually going to call Jason Nash about becoming his steady editor. You tell Gabbie as much over coffee.

“But, it’s a job, like long term and well paying… and he asked me about editors I knew the last time I saw him. Plus, if you last for a while, you can put that shit on your resume. And he’s great, like the coolest, chillest dude ever,” she’s explaining, trying to win you over. She had told you all about his kids and ex wife, how stressed he was. And that he could pay big money because he was racking in the revenue from his relationship with Trisha Paytas. Still, working for one of the vlog squad basically meant working for David, and you weren’t interested in that at all.

“Yeah, no. I’m sure he is, but the vlog squad? C’mon. Why would I do that to myself when you noped the fuck outta that mess years ago,” you tell her, sipping on your latte.

“Because I’m not an editor, (Y/N). It’s not like you have to hang out with them. You just hang around Jason and edit his shit. It’s not that complicated,” Gabbie says, looking at you like you’re dumb. You roll your eyes at her.

“Maybe I don’t want to be associated with David Dobrik and his loyal servants when their party comes crashing to the ground. You know it’s coming. He’s the next Shane Dawson expose for sure,” you ramble, “Like, Dobrik is the next Jake Paul. At least that’s what I get from his Snapchat’s, does he do anything but try to sell his shitty hoodies? And prank people until they cry?”

“Yeah. He gives people cars all the time.”

“PR move!” You yell, a little too loudly for nine in the morning at a coffee shop. Gabbie jumps a little and brings her hand to her mouth, shushing you. Ignoring her, you continue, “Yeah, it’s  _sooo_  genuine, Gabs. ‘ _Hey guys, I sent my friend to the hospital last week for a poorly thought out, unfunny stunt. This week I’m buying my assistant a car! No motive, no PR team screaming at me from the sidelines. Nope, I’m just a super awesome, humble guy who appreciates the people who obediently follow me around like a puppy so I can make content that’ll have 16 year olds everywhere buying my shitty merch!_ ’ Gimme a break.”

“Holy fuck, I know you’re a cynic, but you have gone full pessimist lately,” Gabbie laughs at your impression, shaking her head. “They aren’t bad people, (Y/N). David isn’t either, he’s just young and rich and a little dumb. And Jason is probably the most down to earth one of them. Just think about it.”

“Ugh, fine. Fine, just no more talk about it. How’s your book coming?”

You change the subject, firm that the phone number she programmed into your phone will never get any use.

——

Then Defy Media goes under and Clevver, the main source of your rent lately, is done. You are out a decent paying job and next months check, you are royally fucked. Staring at the number in your phone, bent over on your couch, your thumb hovers.

You need the job. You want work, being at home with nothing to do all day makes you stir crazy. But all your points listed out about this still stand.

Fuck it.

You type out a quick message to Jason about Gabbie and his need for an editor with a link to your reel. You press send before you can talk yourself out of it. Then, it’s a waiting game. You’re scouring the internet for job postings when you get a message in return.

**Hey! I’m so glad you hit me up. I desperately need help and would love to have you as my editor. Your reel is great! Can you meet for coffee in like 2 hours? I’m behind already and we can talk logistics.**

You’re shocked. He must be desperate if he’s hiring you sight unseen and already getting you to work. But it’s a saving grace and more than you could of wished for. You’ll get a paycheck sooner and not have to worry about eviction. You let him know that’s fine and arrange a place.

The meeting goes well, Jason is a cool dude who doesn’t seem as wound up as your usual content creators were. You agreed on a wage (like 35% higher than your last gig, fuck yeah) and got to understand Jason’s edit style and post dates.

What didn’t shock you about the job, but you were hoping you could circumvent, was that you would be working closely with Trisha and David, as Jason often traded footage with both of them. And unlike Jason, they both edited their own vlogs because they had either, fewer responsibilities in their lives (Trisha), or were anal about their edit and wanted to do them personally (David). Great, great, great.

A jobs, a job though. You’ve survived working with some shitty people in your time and honestly didn’t think you’d have any problem on your hands.

——

There are problems though.

Yeah… there are a couple.

——

The first is Trisha. Well, she wasn’t a huge problem, but an obstacle. She was super insecure (you knew this going in) and the first time she came over to Jason’s and you were chilling on the couch, finishing up a vlog, things got tense. She knew you were hired, but she hadn’t met you before. You’d introduced yourself and shook the woman’s hands, wearing your usual editor getup of jeans and a giant hoodie, no makeup, hair not really done up but presentable enough for the public and giant headphones, to tune out the world around you.

You think that helped you because Trisha made a comment about how you were at least not trying to look good for Jason. You laughed at that, and looked her straight in the eyes with meaning behind them, and maybe a little intimidating,

“You couldn’t pay me into retirement to sleep with Jason.”

She’s taken a back for a second and you both look over to the man. You say  _no offense_  softly as the man shrugs, but don’t apologize or try to take it back. Trisha just snorts and says she likes you, claws retracting and a calmness returning to the room. Jason looks like a bomb’s been defused and ever grateful for you.

Bullet dodged… hopefully.

——

The next problem is David…

He’s actually the rest of the problems you have with your new job.

See, Trisha got over her bullshit pretty quickly and began texting you once a week for specific footage with Jason. She would describe them well and stay on the phone while you found and verified the clip, and then you’d send them to her. No muss, no fuss. She was an editor’s literal dream.

But, David fucking Dobrik was a nightmare.

Constantly texting you about clips from things that weren’t recorded, but he’s “sure they were because Jason was holding his camera like it was recording”, or waking you up in the middle of night to make sure you weren’t using a certain song for a montage or outro because he was going to use it in the next week.

And that was besides the ridiculous amount of times David was reminding you not to post certain things that were gonna premiere on his channel first. Like, yes, it’s fine to tell you. If it makes David feel better that you’re hearing it from him and not Jason, FINE. But to text you every post day, over a dozen times? It was a fucking joke and has been going on through week four of your new job. And you’d had enough. You’d mentioned it to Jason, but he’d just shrugged it off as David being David.

Well, fuck David.

You’d never even met the man in person at this point in time, but he was living up to every one of your terrible expectations. That’s when the 14th text comes in, as you’re exporting Jason’s latest vlog and  _just_  leaning back to relax on the older mans couch. That’s also when you snap, hitting the phone button on the text and calling the douchebag.

“Hello? (Y/N)? Why are you callin-,” he starts after a few seconds of waiting for it to connect.

“Hey David! Nice talking to you finally and not just reading your utterly demeaning  _and_  demanding text messages!” You start in, just letting loose all the irritation he’s caused you over the last month. “Super appreciate the literally DOZENS of messages you leave me on post day, not to mention in the middle of the god damn night the rest of the week. I’m glad you understand what an invalid I am and how the constant texts actually do help me! It’s  _absolutely_  not a slight to my four year education and years of experience in my profession. Or the fact that I do heed your words the FIRST time I hear them, because it’s my  _literal_  job. A job I have that actually doesn’t revolve around you. Crazy, I know!” Your voice is just dripping with sarcasm at this point. In your brief pause you can hear a soft, amused breath from his end of the call. It doesn’t stop you at all.

“Anyway, I just wanted to call and let you know how productive you’re making me, and thank you! I really don’t know  _how_  I would function in my chosen career without your undying, unrelenting, un-asked for guidance. Hope the vlog that just posted meets your standards! Leave a comment if it doesn’t. Just please,  _please_  don’t text me about it.”

And you’re slamming the end button before he can respond. You look up and Jason is standing in the entrance way to his living room, jaw dropped. And all he can say after lifting it off the ground is,

“I didn’t know he was texting you in the middle of the night! Yeah… fuck him.”

You’re glad this ends with you both laughing and not you being fired.

——

“Your editor’s got some mega fucking attitude, dude,” is the first thing David says to Jason, picking him up in the Tesla the next day. Jason just starts cackling at that.

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t text her in the middle of the night. Most people’s work schedule doesn’t extend to 3am, Dave. And I thought she had quite a few points. Like, she works for  _me_. And she does in fact know how to skillfully edit my shitty vlogs,” Jason’s laughing this out and is glad to find David just as amused.

“I wasn’t expecting to get ripped a new asshole is all. I was in an Uber to some event and Natalie heard the whole thing,” David replied, kinda sheepishly.

“You’re just butt hurt that there’s someone in this world that doesn’t give a fuck who you are and is willing to talk shit to your face. And that now Natalie and I  _know_  someone put you in your place,” the older man retorts, pointing at him accusingly before going on, “I’m not reprimanding her for having enough of you. She’s doing great AND Trisha likes her. Fuck off dude. Just text her less.”

“What do you mean she doesn’t give a fuck who I am?” Of course this is the part of what Jason was saying that David focuses on.

Shaking his head, he explains, “Well, she knows who you are and is absolutely comfortable enough to basically call you a dick within the first month of being my editor. Also, Gabbie told me the first time we talked about her that (Y/N) hates working for the bigger creators on the platform, and that she thinks they’re all materialistic and out of touch assholes. So, you know, I thought she would be a perfect fit for me. I’m basically nobody. But you? There’s no love lost there from the beginning, but she’s obviously professional enough to keep from snapping on your ass for like a month. I don’t know, Dave. What? You want me to force her to care who you are?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I guess I just figured-“

“Sorry, dude. Not everyone loves our golden boy. But she’s not a mean person. She’s never even mentioned it. This is what Gabs told me forever ago. Either way, she doesn’t have to be blown over by you to be my editor. Right?”

“No, yeah, right. I guess I didn’t think I was bothering her. I’d always hit you up the same amount.”

“Yeah, but we’re friends. She works for me. It’s different,” Jason’s explaining as David nods along, eyes on the road, thinking.

(Y/N) doesn’t like him? Everyone likes him! YouTube world or not, David was charming as shit. It perplexed him, stirring uneasiness in his chest. This was just going to be a challenge in his eyes now.

She doesn’t like him? That’s fine. She will though.

David guar-an- _fucking_ -tees it.

——

David Dobrik sends you an apology Edible Arrangement. The good kind, all chocolate covered fruit.

There’s a card attached that says,

**Jason’s last vlog def met my standards, so you obvy don’t need my help. I’ll stop being such a dick.**

**(See? I didn’t text you.)**

**-D**

It makes you laugh fucking hard.

You find it a little endearing but also, yeah, you deserve an unhealthy Edible Arrangement. He probably has a contact at the fruit company for appeasing all the people he steps on to run his empire. You’re not special, but the thought is at least there. Whatever. He had stopped bombarding you with texts and had been much more polite in general, so you were more than fine with the whole situation now.

You had hoped this was the end of it.

——

It wasn’t.

——


	2. Chapter 2

——

Everything was going good when Jason lets you know he’s going with Trisha and David back to Boston and Chicago for a 10 day period. You’d understood when you took the job there would be some travel weekends, but 10 days seemed excessive and you were wondering why you even needed to be there with wi-fi being a thing. Jason explained how vlogs become super up in the air while traveling. Things change, opportunities arise and it’s easier when all three of them can edit together. He also lets you know it is excessive and you can totally skip out on this one.

But here’s the catch, Jason also wanted you to edit for Trisha’s vlogs during the trip. (Which isn’t hard at all. You’d watched a few of her vlogs at this point and the cuts were lazy and extremely simple.) There’s a thirty five hundred dollar bonus in it and everything will be paid for. You agree too quickly, hungry for the money. And a couple paid trips.

You could deal with Trisha and David for that period. No problem.

——

There is always a problem.

——

It’s not an unpleasant journey out to Boston. Everything is chill. You’d already pieced the first half of Jason’s next vlog together and Trisha would give you footage to edit two days after you settled in. You really had nothing to do except enjoy the flight.

You were sat next to Joe, he was David’s addition camera/assistant editor? Joe explained he helped bounce ideas off David but didn’t actually edit any of the footage unless it was adding music over pre-cut material and then giving back to Dave for finally touches.  _What a fucking control freak_ , you can’t help thinking. Joe’s such a cool guy, you don’t know how he put up with that. But he seemed chipper while explaining, it didn’t seem like he cared. It blew your mind.

The flight is half over when you notice someone sit in the seat Joe had left a few moments ago, and it wasn’t Joe. David plopped down next to you, looking jazzed, on the edge of the seat brimming with energy. You pull your headphones off and use all the professionalism in you to not roll your eyes.

“So… you got my apology?” He starts, smiling at you with all the charm he’s got.

“Yeah, I did. Did you realize there wasn’t actually an apology anywhere in there? Cause I did,” you tell him, looking back to the phone screen, unimpressed with his presence.

He scoffs, like a sitcom character.

“Seriously? That’s how it’s going to be? I’m trying to play nice with you and this is what I get?” he implores, amusement in his tone instead of the disdain his words held. You don’t look up from your phone.

“I mean, what did you want from me? I don’t  _play_  anything. You don’t have to be nice to me, you can just be professional,” you explain, dragging your eyes to his deflated form in the seat. It makes you smirk, “We work together, David. It’s all good.”

“Yeah, it sure seems like it,” he snipes at you, becoming defensive all of a sudden. He’s sitting back up and turning to you when he asks, “Why don’t you like me? Besides the texting. You obviously have a problem with me.”

You click your phone shut and turn properly to him, mirroring his stance. You bore through him, contemplating your next sentence while he squirms in his seat. The smirk doesn’t leave your face, and you can tell David is uncomfortable with the way your demeanor had changed.

“I don’t know, but what I do know is I never told anyone we work with that. So, it’s purely gossip at this point,” you challenged, “But, I think the better question is why does it bother you?”

David looks slightly appalled, you don’t know if it’s your words or the question at hand. It makes you feel smug though, you’re getting to him.

“Why does everyone  _have_  to like you? And why do you care if they don’t?”

He just stares blankly until you lean back in your seat, slip on your headphones and pull the screen back to your face, letting him clearly know the conversation is over.

He doesn’t leave for another minute.

——

“What the fuck?! Why? Why does she hate me this much?” David’s babbling to Jason as they run out to grab food to bring back to the hotel. Jason can’t help the giddy laughter that pours out of him. He’s never seen a person David couldn’t charm, he’s also never seen it eat at the man like it is now. Jason loves David, but he always thought the man needed to be brought down a peg to keep his head. Success as thick and swift as David’s can ruin people if they’re not brought down to earth every once and awhile. And Jason’s mostly amused it’s his editor.

“I don’t know man, but if she’s not going out of her way to be a bitch, then-,” he’s starting before being cut off by David.

“She’s not going out of her way, but she’s there, engrained into our work lives, actively disliking me. Like, how the fuck am I suppose to deal with  _that_ ,” he stressed, gripping at his hair in the passenger seat of their rental.

“Jesus Christ! It’s moments like these I’m reminded you’ve never worked a  _real_  job a day in your life! You’ve never had to deal with a co-worker that hates you, huh? Well, take it from me; if she’s not actively trying to ruin your career, leave it the fuck alone. You can function without it being a big deal,” Jason’s lecturing, eyes flicking from the stressed man to the street.

“Yeah, well she kinda accurately pin pointed that it really  _fuckin_ ’ bothers me when people dislike me. So, I don’t think that’s gonna happen,” David’s rolling his eyes, brow furrowed.

“Wait, she said that to you?”

“Yeah dude, she was spitting all kinds of venom. I didn’t even know how to respond. I just left.”

“Damn, Trish is right. She is a bad bitch,” Jason’s chuckling, looking over at the man who had grown quiet. “That didn’t actually bother you, did it?”

“I mean, no? Like, I already knew that about myself, but it fucked me up to hear it from someone I barely know, ya know?” David explains, biting on the skin of his thumb. He looks confused in the seat, nervous.

“You gotta let this go, Dave.”

And he knows Jason is right. He does need to let it stop eating at him, and he decides he will as their parking at the restaurant to pick up their food.

——

He doesn’t. David is devoured whole.

——

David knocks at your door at 11:45 in the night. You’re up and adding to Jason’s vlog, and you’re not blown away by the fact he’s here. You have footage of bits he needs for his next vlog, and he can let you know about stuff you can and can’t use. Jason and Trisha were doing the hometown date night thing, leaving the two of you to work. It made more sense to work together, but you always get sucked into willing solitude when you edit. David invited himself over.

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence. You’re stretched out on the window sill in your room, large and comfy enough to sit with your headphones perched lopsided, one ear out to hear the man if he starts speaking. David was laying on the bed closest to the window, playing his vlog out loud in the room.

It’s inexplicable why you don’t tell him when you finish editing and start doing some coding side work for a friends website. He doesn’t need to be here after that, but you tell yourself you get sucked into your work with a sound track of The Weeknd and IDKHOW playing through your computer.

It’s almost three am when you notice David standing beside you, looking at your screen.

“You’re a web developer?” He asks astonished, you can’t help but scowl at that. You’re brought back from your little happy place to this placating bullshit?

“Yeah, a girl can totally have two jobs in the same field that she kicks ass at. I don’t know,” you challenge as he backs up, your tongue getting ready for the kill, “I suppose I just don’t understand people who can fulfill their lives completely with editing. It really is a simple, mediocre skill at best. I gotta do something to not get bored. How’s your four minute video coming? You’ve been working on it for, what? Two days now. I guess you wouldn’t understand,” you are straight up sneering at the man, having fully risen from your seated position in the midst of your tirade.

David looks so taken aback before a fire alights behind his deep brown eyes, taking in your sharp words. He looks so furious, he’d stopped backing up, hands turning to fists at his sides. You are briefly thinking he might honest to god hit you, striking a deep nerve with the usually unwavering man. You’re too busy staring and contemplating this to stop him from lunging forward at you, hands jutting forward to grab your face.

You expect something painful, but you get David’s chapped lips surging onto your own, hands tilting your face upwards. It’s rough and heavy, his tongue immediately going to lick at your lips. You can’t move in that moment, your eyes had slipped shut at the first touch of his fingers to your skin. You were floored, chest tightening with excitement and a flush going through your body. You were absolutely okay with this and that was surprising.

He’d noticed your lack of reaction and is going to pull back when you reach out and ball your hands in his shirt, pulling him closer to you and opening your mouth for him in one movement. The groan he lets out is kind of intoxicating and has you pressing up into the kiss, fighting for dominance while trying to bite at his lips. His hands slip to hold your throat, fingers shockingly gentle on your skin and you take the opportunity to suck David’s lip into your mouth and bite down. You draw out another groan from him, a mewling, harsh sound that’s interrupted by a loud knocking on the door to your hotel room.

You’re both instantaneously reeling back from one another, eyes wide and jerking from the source of the noise to the other person.

What  _the_  fuck?

——

There was always a problem.

——


End file.
